Moving On
by shadowsofthelight369
Summary: After the war, and the death of Fred, George is stuggling. Unable to cope wit the crippling death of his twin, he falls into unhealthy habits. Hermione, stuck in an abusive relationship with Ron, is also struggling. Will they be able to help each other? NOTE: pretty heavy at times, and M for saftey. Read at own risk. Abusive ron, and kind George!
1. Chapter 1

**New story time! So I'm not nearly done with this, i think it's gonna be really long anyways. I've had this, and a few other chapters written for a while, so it will be steadily updates for a while :)**

**ALSO NOTE: that I personally have no experience on spousal abuse, or anything like that mentioned in this story. I"ve read quite a bit about it, but still. I tried my best, and tried to write it the best I could. Please consider dropping a review to tell me how I managed it... if anyone is offended by anything (which I don't think will happen... idk), I apologise in advance. **

**Chapter 1:**

The Weasleys all sat down to enjoy what should have been a happy dinner. After all the war was over and Voldemort was dead. Most were happy, ready to settle back down into the lives that had, for the most part been disrupted by the war.

The Weasleys, on the other hand were a very different, but not uncommon story.

After the loss of Fred, just a month ago, none of the Weasleys were doing good. Most weren't even doing okay.

But out of them all, George was most possibly doing the worst.

He would constantly pause in the middle of his speech, and glance to the right of him, expectant. He almost always refused to finish what he had been saying, claiming that it, wasn't after all, his sentence to finish.

When he had come to the Burrow that afternoon, his hair had been dyed, with muggle dye it seemed, a bright green and purple. His left side was a dark, though bright, forest green, some strands darker than others, and his right was a deep purple. It was split evenly down the middle. His hair had grown out, reaching his shoulders, and his bangs often fell in his eyes.

Molly had shrieked when she saw it, and immediately whipped out her wand to turn it back it to ginger. But no matter what she did, it didn't change back, and George smirked in satisfaction, though only for a second. He had specially created a potion to protect it from magical interference. When his mother had asked him why he dyed it, he only looked at her and muttered, "I wanted to look different." She had immediately stopped trying to change it, and had stared at him wordlessly when he turned away. A few tears slipped from both their eyes and both took care not to let the other see it as they brushed it away.

Molly and Arthur, while both grieved, were beginning to get better.

Molly had thrown herself into her family. She insisted that all of her children, for the time after the war, stay close at the Burrow. Bill had only just moved out last week, insisting that he needed to get out. Molly had been extremely reluctant to let him go, but had, after weeks of convincing and arguing, had given in.

Arthur, on the other hand, while he did love his family, found it hard to be around them, especially George. Privately he admitted to himself that it was because of how much he looked like Fred. Most of Arthur's time was put into his work, though, oftentimes Molly made him come home and spend time with her and the kids. Which he, for the most part, didn't mind, though was reluctant to do.

Ron and Hermione, who had gotten together at the end of the war, were happily dating. Secretly, Hermione was uncertain as to how long it would last. Her and Ron were so different. She almost wondered if it was too different. Not to mention what had happened last night.

Ginny and Harry had also rekindled their relationship after the war. They were very happy together, and while neither wanted to get married yet, it was obvious that they were as close as many married couples. Molly and Arthur approved wholeheartedly of the relationship, and thought that the two were very aptly suited. It was an opinion most of the family shared. In fact, unknown to Molly, the pair had started making plans to buy a smallish (three bedrooms, one and a half bath) house together.

Gathered, all together (Bill had flooed back to visit, as he often did, mostly at Molly's insistence), even Hermione and Harry (who were Weasleys, as far as the family was concerned, in all but name) were there, it was eerily quiet.

Before the final battle, no matter how grim things had been, dinner had always been a noisy affair. Everyone talked and laughed freely.

Now, however it was a different story.

"Ginny, dear, pass the salt." Molly said softly to Ginny, who was closest to the salt.

They were all sat outside, the sun setting behind them, flushing the sky a beautiful magenta orange color. Lights had been enchanted to hand unbound above and around the table casting light on the table was long and rectangular, built of a dark hardwood. Molly and Arthur were sat on the two ends. Hermione and Ron, or course, sat next to each other, down on Arthurs end. Next to Ron sat Bill and Charlie, who were quietly conversing about Quidditch. Across from Charlie, sat Ginny, and next to her was, Harry. Harry was talking to Arthur and George, who sat next to him, while Ginny talked to Molly.

Despite the fact that so many people were talking, it was overall rather quiet, everyone speaking in hushed, grim voices. No one was talking about anything of any importance, all staying on safe topics like work and Quidditch.

George, though Harry was talking to him, was barely responding.

He was, oftentimes, moody and silent, preferring to brood in his room, despite how much the others tried to involve him.

Most of the family were sure that the worst was yet to come for George. He was almost in a denial like stage. He never talked about Fred, or any of the things that even remotely involved him. It was certain that his 'ignorance is bliss' and his 'out of sight out of mind' mindset (he broke all the mirrors in his shop and at home) would soon pop and he would be worse off for it.

"George, what are you thinking about?" Harry asked softly to George, after a short lapse in mostly one sided conversation, successfully changing the topic of conversation, it had been on the joke shop.

"Hmm… Oh you know things." George said, glancing quickly at Harry, and then returning to the wall where he had been looking previously.

Harry decided that it was now or never. "Him?"

George looked at Harry, Harry would have believed that he had his attention, if not for the foggy lost sheen over his eyes.

There was a silence, and it was so long before Harry got a response that he wondered if, perhaps he wasn't going to answer.

"I suppose." George quietly answered, almost whispering.

He seemed to forget that he was talking to anyone, and that his entire family was present and had fallen silent, looking, unnoticed by him, at him as he continued.

"It's just, I don't know what to make of it. He's dead. Gone. I'll never see him again… except for when I look in a mirror…. I dyed my hair, it doesn't help, I miss him so much, and all I have to do to see him again is look in a mirror. But it isn't him, no matter how much I want to be." His voice was low, full of ache and grief. A wound, unseeable, on his heart.

He twisted in his seat suddenly, turning around to look at the window that was across the room. It was dark outside, but the blinds were still up, making it so that George could see himself. He swallowed hard, and turned back around.

If he saw that everyone was looking at him he didn't show it, as he went right back to staring at his hands. Suddenly, he jerked his hands and shoved them under the table, and shifted his stare to the table. He swallowed, and seemed to be fighting back tears as he continued to talk, though his voice was now composed, almost to the point of being cold.

"At the joke shop, I can't help but see him everywhere. I can't help but pause when I talk, because I always expect him to cut in… I can't tell you how many people have called my Fred, and then avoided me like the plague!" his voice had risen to a shout, even though he stayed still in his seat, his face was contorted, and he was furious.

He was furious at the Death Eaters, the world, even at himself. It was no secret that he, at least in part blamed himself, though his family didn't think it was this big of a weight on his conscience.

Fred stopped talking, his face calmed, and saddened. The lines on his face were apparent. Lines were abundant around his eyes, though they weren't laugh lines, and the frown seemed carved there.

He suddenly jumped to his feet, his face in pieces, long fought composure forgotten, or perhaps abandoned.

He stormed out of the house, and into the yard.

The rest of the family, that had stayed at the table, shocked, heard the distant crack of dissapperation. No one had expected that to happen. Why now?

Molly had tears dripping down her cheeks, a pained expressed on her face, and Arthur looked shell shocked. Hermione was also in tears, and she looked like she had wanted to run after him, there was regret on her face. Ron on the other hand, didn't look like he was feeling anything, there wasn't an expression on his face, his facial features looked like they were carved out of stone.

Really, though they should have expected this. It wasn't surprising that, after all he had endured, he would crack, it was only a surprise that it had taken this long.

Hermione felt awful, it wasn't her responsibility to care for George, but she felt, perhaps irrationally, partial responsibility. She was, afterall at the joke shop almost as much as she was at the Burrow, or with Ron. She saw George almost every day, but still had had no idea that this was coming, no one did or could have.

The rest of the night, was spent in an agonizing silence as the family processed what had happened.

Hermione had wanted to go after George, but Ron had stopped her. According to him, it would be best for George if they let him stew for a while, and then approach him. They could get through to him better. Hermione, even after his many assurances was still doubtful.

It was in fact, only because of the anger that Ron had shown towards her, and George, that she gave up, and stayed at the Burrow to eat.

Hermione and Ron, had argued, just after George left, and by the end of it, Ron was furious at her, and had gone as far as to grip her wrists painfully when she had tried to leave and go after George. The rest of the family, including Harry, pretended not to notice, perhaps hoping that, as they did with so many other things, that if they ignored it, it would eventually go away. Which never happened.

Hermione and Ron stepped into the fireplace that was filled with green flames. The couple were the last to leave, Hermione having avoided it for as long as she could. She helped Molly with the dishes, and cleaning up, long after everyone else had left. It had only been at the insistent urgings of an angry Ron, that Hermione, unhappy, left with him. They quickly said their goodbyes and flooed away to their flat.

Hermione, when they arrived, watched apprehensively as Ron brushed himself clean of the ash that had collected on his robes. She wordlessly did the same, wondering if tonight would be the same as last night, and wondering what she would do if it was.

"You bitch!" it was with a savagity that Hermione had only seen directly at Death Eaters, that Ron came at her. She was helpless to do anything but watch as he raised his hand.

"How dare you cheat on me with him!"

Of course Ron would think that she had cheated on him, probably with George, after the way she had wanted to go after him earlier. But, contrary to what he thought, she had never cheated on him, with anybody, much less his own brother.

Hermione tried, throughout the next hour, to stop Ron, but eventually gave up, and ran to the living room, aiming for the fireplace.

Hermione flooed to the only place she could think of, and that just happened to be the place that she though Ron wouldn't follow her, but she was wrong.

"Weasley Wizard Wheezes, George's flat!" she practically threw the floo powder in the fireplace and hurled herself in after it. Hoping that Ron wouldn't follow.

She felt his hand grab his foot, and gulped.

Ron and Hermione fell into the flat above the joke shop. Ron immediately pinned to the ground, her back down. Hermione whimpered and flinched back against the floor, as Ron struck her. She hoped George would get there soon, and wondered if he was even there.

Ron made to hit her again, but behind her she heard footsteps, fast ones, and evidently Ron did to as he made to pull her back into the fireplace that still had green flames in them.

George came around the corner, wearing pajamas, and sporting bloodshot eyes, his multicolored hair sticking up. His eyes fell on the two of them, Ron with a savage expression on his face, focused on the form below him.

George felt a tremor of surprise and horror go down his spine, Hermione looked like she had been hit with a train, or at least a Sectumsempra.

He ran forward and tackled Ron sideways, clearly seeing what had happened. and rolled him off Hermione, pinning him below him. Neither of them had their wands, but George was older and bigger than Ron, though it was close in terms of height and size. Both were very tall and lanky, but from their days of Quidditch, they were both very strong.

The two fought it out, eventually concluding when George punched Ron hard enough in the temple to knock him out.

Hermione, while this had been happening, had gotten to her feet shakily, her hands pressed to her stomach, a pained groan slipping from her mouth. She was swaying on her feet, and looked like she was going to fall. She was deathly pale, her eyes glassy.

George, still on the floor, looked her way, and jumped to his feet, he had almost forgotten that she was there. He walked over to her quickly, vaguely wondering what he was going to do.

Her eyes, focused on George, rolled up into her head, showing the whites. She gasped shallowly, and then went limp, falling. George barely caught her as she fell, looking at her in panic, before realizing that she had merely passed out, not died as he had thought in a moment of adrenaline fueled panic.

**Again, tell me how I did, and keep in mind that I don't personally have experience with spousal abuse, and did my best to write this. **


	2. George and Ron and Hermione

**Alright, welcome back to the second chapter! Thanks to all those that followed or faved!**

**Again, same warnings as last chapter, and. Also, I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters. In case you were wondering. **

It was with a throbbing headache that Hermione woke up. She groaned softly, holding a hand to her head. Ron must have done it again.

This had been going on between her and Ron for at least a month. Before that, Ron had been insecure about their relationship, always thinking that she was cheating on him, when she never was. Eventually, to Hermione's horror, it had progressed into this. He was possessive of her to an extent where he barely let her leave his vicinity, and she almost never had her wand anymore, he had taken it long ago, rarely giving it back.

She had always said to herself that she would stand up and stop it, but despite what he did to her, there was also a part of her that still loved Ron, and was sure that he would stop soon, realizing that he loved her too. The war, and Fred's death, had changed them all. Hermione denied it in her mind, but she knew that his grief had revealed Ron.

She still loved him, and didn't want to have to fight back against him.

Not to mention that Ron always made sure that she never had her wand, and he was so much bigger than she was. She had no hope of winning against him. Plus, it had always been worse when she had tried to fight him, which she had irrationally tried once.

Hermione, looked around and panicked, having no idea where she was. Frantically she looked around for Ron, or anyone else, but there was no one there, to her relief.

As she continued to look around, she found that she did, vaguely, recognize where she was. She thought for a moment before she could place it. George's flat, above the joke shop.

Why was she here? What happened last night?

Her thoughts were interrupted when the door, on the other side of the room, creaked open, revealing a tall, lanky figure. A Weasley, but not the one she was dreading.

"George?" her voice was hoarse, and it sounded weak, even to her own ears, to her distaste.

"Hi, Mione." He paused in his speech, the usual smile on his face was lacking, though there. "How do you feel?" his voice was soft, and Hermione could tell he was uncertain.

Hermione though, or rather felt, for a moment and then frowned "I feel fine."

From her memories, what few she had of last night, she had taken a beating. The last thing she remembered was trying to get to the fireplace in her and Ron's flat. She must have succeeded, and then what? Flooed here? If that was so, George must have been the one to heal her.

Where was Ron?

George must have seen the questions on her face, and answered them before she could voice them.

"You flooed here last night, with Ron on your tail… How long has he been doing this to you Mione, why didn't you ever tell anyone?" His voice was still soft, and he had come into the room, and had hesitantly sat at the foot of the bed. His voice looked worried, though his eyes looked furious, she suspected it wasn't at her.

Hermione opened her mouth, but couldn't find the words to explain the last question, so, after a short pause during which she stared at the floor, unable to look at George.

"It's been going on, I don't know… maybe a month, give or take."

George's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"But I've seen you in the last month, and I never noticed any sort of bruising-"

"I wore glammers, I didn't want anyone to know."

"Why not?"

Hermione paused, and pondered what to tell him. "I was just… I just didn't want anyone to know. I still don't." She swallowed thickly, still unable to meet his eyes.

"But, you're the smartest witch of your age, I don't get how he was able to do this to you." George's voice was soft, still looking carefully at her with concerned, though bloodshot eyes.

She stared at the ground, and didn't answer.

"Hermione, please, I just want to help."

She momentarily looked up at him, but then returned her eyes to the ground.

"He always had my wand, and there was never anything I could do, why would that change if anyone knew? I even had to ask him for my wand to put on the glammers. Nothing would have changed."

Hermione quickly looked up from the floor, and looked at George again. He looked sad, angry and concerned at the same time, mostly angry though. Hermione knew it wasn't aimed at here though, for which she was relieved. She wouldn't want to be on the receiving side of his anger.

George opened his mouth like he wanted to respond, but Hermione cut him off, "Where's Ron?"

George blinked at her, and then half looked over his shoulder.

"He's still stunned in the living room, has been all night. I wanted to know more of what was happening before I did anything with him."

Hermione nodded silently, looking hesitantly at the door, wondering, and now fearing, if he would come in. George seemed to pick up on her worries, and followed her gaze to the door. He looked back at her, and scooted closer to her on the bed. She was staring off into space, almost as if she was in a trance. She failed to notice George scoot closer to her and touch her arm gently. She jumped, not expecting that, and flinched.

George immediately moved away as if he was burned, and Hermione felt awful. He quickly hid the hurt look on his face, and sat back a few yards away from her, on the edge of the bed. Hermione moved towards him and took his hand, holding it between them.

There was a content silence between them, Hermione thought that it felt good to hold a friendly hand, as just that, a friend.

It was a long minute before George or Hermione moved again, both looking lost in thought. It only ended when George cleared his throat and looked at her, "Do you want something to eat, I made breakfast."

Hermione nodded and smiled at him as he stood up and, still holding her hand, lead her out into the hallway.

The two walked in silence. As they walked in the hallway (the flat had two bedrooms, a small sitting room, where the fireplace was, and a kitchen at the end of hall), Hermione looked into the sitting room. Ron was laying on the floor face down, and stunned.

Hermione gasped, stopping in her tracks, staring at him. George stopped as well, looking at her, he saw Ron and the open door, and cursed himself silently for not closing the door.

"'Mione, it's OK, he can't hurt you anymore, and he never will again." When she didn't respond, he gently tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her carefully away.

A few seconds later, they were in the kitchen and Hermione breathed easy again. She looked at George thankfully, although he didn't notice, he was to busy glaring back the way they had come.

The pair of them sat down to eat the breakfast of scrambled eggs that George had made earlier. They were somewhat cold, but Hermione didn't notice, her thoughts were buzzing, and she was looking at George, who was eating his own eggs with a passion, almost an anger.

The meal was almost done, when they both heard a banging, and then footsteps coming from the sitting room. Hermione froze, and George stood up. Just as he did, Ron burst from the room, and began to walk down the hall. He swayed as if he was drunk, and Hermione suspected it was because the stunner had had to wear off instead of being removed, which left the body numb in some places. Hermione shrunk away into George, who was standing behind her protectively, his hands searching his pockets.

She heard George curse, and looked behind her. George had stopped searching through his clothes, though his hands were both empty.

With no other option, it looked as if George was going to tackle Ron as he moved down the hall. Just as George and Ron were feet apart, around the middle of the hallway, Ron raised his hands in surrender.

George stopped, though, unseen to Hermione, the furious look was still on his face.

Ron raised his hands again and spoke with a hoarse voice.

"I just want to talk."

George laughed cruelly, and glanced back at Hermione, asking silently for her opinion. While he was distracted and looking over his shoulder, Ron ran forward, and tackled George, landing on top of him. Hermione was furious, at Ron, but there was nothing that she thought she could do: they were both bigger than her, and she didn't have a wand.

She watched, horrified as Ron punched George in the head, and when he fell to the ground, kick him in his groin.

Hermione shrunk back as Ron stepped around George and came towards her, his nose bleeding and probably broken from his tussle with George. She was sitting on the chair, previously occupied by George, that was closest to the wall, the table in front of her, and she shrunk into the table and wall, trying to be smaller than she was. Her heart was racing.

As he approached, she could see the rage on his face, and whimpered, wondering if she could possibly run. But no, he was to close, only a few feet away now. When he was only 1 or 2 feet away, he swung his fist. Hermione only had seconds to duck, and she could only duck inches, not enough to avoid the impending impact. His clenched hand hit the top of her head, right above her left eye. The bar stool chair she was on toppled to the side away from the table, and she, woozy from the blow to her face, didn't grab the table in time to keep her from falling to the ground with the chair. Now she was on floor, that wasn't good, now he could kick her. Which he did.

Hermione yelled and curled up as he kicked her in the stomach, hard. She thought she heard a rib crack.

He pulled back his foot again, and swung it forward. She closed her eyes, resigning herself to her fate. But the kick never came, instead, she heard a strangled cry, and opened her eyes to see George behind Ron, holding him in a choke hold. George held him in the choke hold until he passed out, which thankfully only took a few minutes, and then let him drop to the ground, unconscious.

Hermione stood up, careful of her bruised ribs, and then immediately collapsed. Her side hurt, and she was certain that at least one rib was cracked. But that didn't explain why she collapsed, or why she was having trouble breathing. This had never happened before. She had no idea how to react.

George, on the other hand, did know what to do. He took one look at her, on the ground, and ran to his room down the hall, presumably to get his wand. He returned after only a few seconds, and ran to her. When he passed Ron, on his way back to her, he stunned him, a bit viciously it seemed to Hermione.

Hermione started to feel lightheaded, and it hurt, a lot, to breathe, by the time he reached her.

He grabbed her hand, and the last thing she heard before she lost consciousness, was the lingering sound of disapperating. There was the awkward, uncomfortable feeling of being quickly squished through an opening to small for you to fit, and it was all dark.

**Okay, now I know it seems like i've painted Hermione in a really OOC way, and I think that, as her situations changed, so would her behavior. Don't worry though, she gets closer to how she was in the books soon enough. **

**Please, drop me a review! Tell me what you though!**


	3. Harry and St Mungo's

**Okay, update time. Again, I'm not sure when this story will be done, so I don't know when it will be published. I hope to do it regularly, but I'm not sure how much interest there is in this... **

**SO, if you like this story and want regular updates, then review!**

**Enjoy, and I ALSO DO NOT OWN THIS. AT ALL.**

George was pacing anxiously in the waiting room of St. Mungo's, his head buzzing with hateful and sad thoughts of his youngest brother. He was, however jerked out of his thoughts by a scrub-clad healer entering the room and asking for a Mr. Weasley.

He jumped over to her, probably startling her, but he was too hyped up to care.

"How is she?"

She consulted the board she had in her hands. She looked up at him.

"She'll be fine. She had a damaged lung, caused by the broken ribs," while she was talking, she had started to walk back the way she had come. He followed her, trailing closely behind. He struggled to remember her name, Healer Johnson, or something.

"Healer Johnson-"

"Healer Jordan."

He looked at her with a sheepish expression, although it quickly faded.

"Sorry. How are her ribs?"

"They were healed, though the bruises around them weren't touched, they will heal by themselves in time, which is safer." she rattled of matter-of-factly, successfully calming George. She must have experience with nervous and scared people.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the short walk down the white washed hallways.

George, when the healer and he arrived at the room, rushed over to the bed that held Hermione. She looked tiny and frail, ironically, on the bed. Her head swamped in pillows, and her slightly bandaged frame buried in crisp sheets. She was still unconscious.

Looking around the room, he was unimpressed by the cold looking, stiff room. He sat in one of the two uncomfortable chairs that was at the head of the bed.

George, in the depths of his mind, was slightly surprised by how much care he felt for the witch that had always been his brother's best friend, and more recently girlfriend. Although, he would admit, that when she had been made prefect, he did enjoy all the attention she gave him, and actively found more ways to get it, albeit breaking rules, forcing her to want to interfere. All the interaction between them, though vague, caught George's attention, from her scolding him in the common room, to sneaking around with her and the rest of the D.A. He never thought that anything would come of his _small and temporary _crush on her. He was glad that he had gotten to know her more during their school days, which lead to their current, stronger friendship. She had, recently and when he was still in school, grown into a beautiful witch.

His brother didn't deserve her.

Especially with how he treated her. Well, that was over, if it was up to George, she wouldn't be alone with Ron again.

Shaking his head to clear it, he turned to the closest healer, who was at the end of the bed looking at a chart.

"When will she wake up?" his voice, even to his own ears, sounded tired and soft. He was scared for her.

The healer looked up, startled. She blinked at him a few times, and cleared her throat. "She should wake up within the hour, but it could be longer or shorter, depending."

She didn't elaborate, and looked back at her charts, walking away, almost as if she wanted to avoid further questions. Which she probably did. George had to cover his small snort of incredulity with a cough. He didn't want to offend the Healers helping care for Hermione.

After a few minutes of silence and thinking on George's part, sleeping on Hermione's, George realised that Harry should be here. Hermione was after all, one of his closest and best friends.

Selfishly, George wanted to be there, alone, when she woke up. He decided that he would call Harry, but not any of his other family, except for maybe Ginny, she would probably be with Harry, when she woke up.

As if she had heard his silent decision, Hermione started to thrash and move. Though her eyes remained close, her pupils were rapidly moving under her eyelids, more that was considered normal for sleep. George was immediately got up out of his chair, and crouched down, careful not to loom over her (that would probably scare her), to get closer to her. He took her hands, if only because he wanted to stop her thrashing: she could hurt herself.

However, after only few seconds, she opened her eyes, and sat bolt upright, scaring George, who had had to reach over her to hold down on both of her hands, putting both of them in an awkward position. George quickly pulled back his hands and moved back to sit in the chair, his face burning red.

Hermione looked at him for a moment, seemed to consider for a second, and then burst into tears. George, reacting, wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. He had no idea what she was crying about, but it was soon cleared up for him.

"I-Ron, he..." she trailed off in a sob. He pulled her tighter to his chest and started to rock her, murmuring comforting words to her.

"Shhh, it's okay, he's at the ministry, in a cell, I brought him there after bringing you here. He's awaiting trial, he could go to Azkaban, not for very long though. Shhh."

That only seemed to make her cry harder, and George shut up, letting her cry into him.

Eventually after a few minutes of this, Hermione calmed down enough for her tears and sobs to cease, and her to pull away from George's embrace, giving him a watery smile of gratitude.

George awkwardly cleared his throat, and remembered that he was going to call Harry.

He turned to Hermione, who was wiping her eyes on the sheets. "Hey, Hermione?"

She looked up at him, and he continued, "Do you want me to get Harry?"

He knew the answer when her face light up. "Oh, of course. Does he already know about..."

George knew what she was referring to already, "No, he doesn't know about _him_, but I'm sure that he won't pester you about it now."

She nodded, moping her eyes with the edge of her white, St. Mungo's provided, clothes.

Without further ado, he stood up from the stiff hard plastic chair, and stretched, walking to the door. Before leaving the room, he looked back at Hermione, who was already talking to a Healer. He couldn't explain why, but he felt melancholy, when he saw her, and knowing that he was on his way to go get Harry.

He opened the door, stepped out into the hall, and shut the door quietly behind him. He made his way out to the waiting room, hoping that there was an open fireplace he could use and firecall Harry. There was, only one of the 5 in use.

George got down on his knees in front of one of the fireplaces after grabbing a handful of floo powder. He tossed it in and clearly said Harry's address. He, after taking a deep breathe, stuck his head into the green flames.

"Harry? Hello?"

After a moment, Harry appeared, looking disgruntled. When he saw George, his face morphed into an expression of concern.

"What's up George?"

"Can you come over to St. Mungo's, like, now?"

"I- what, why?"

"Hermione's in hospital, and she wants you over her with her. She's just woken up."

"Yeah of course, I'll be over right away, just let me go get-"

George cut him off, "Harry, no one else can know, not yet, not now, except for maybe Ginny, if she's there."

Harry blinked a few times, opened his mouth to question him, but then closed it. "Ok, me and Ginny will be over there in a few minutes."

"'Kay. I'll wait in the waiting room for you guys."

When Harry nodded in agreement, and rushed of back the way he had come, back down the hallway, George pulled his head out of the fire. He stood up, knees aching despite the short time spent on them.

George stepped back and away from the fireplace, and stretched. He only had to wait a couple of minutes for Harry and Ginny to come through. Unsurprisingly they came through together, hands clasped. Both had worried expressions on their faces. Harry though, looked like he was going to be ill, probably thinking the worst, after all that had happened during the war, how could he not? Not to mention that he had known Hermione for a long time, and been through a lot with her. And Ron. This was going to destroy their friendship. A friendship that had, literally, taken down the forces of evil.

Oh well. Ron had violently thrown that out the window.

George quickly rushed over to meet them, and, ignoring their questions and confused, worried looks, made his way down the hall and back to her room, them both on his tail. When the got to the room, Hermione was sitting up, propped up against the pillows, still talking to a healer.

George studied her, the bruise that was on her upper forehead looked awful, the white of the surrounding room and bed seemed to make it stand out. She was still pale, but her eyes had resumed a healthy light.

Harry, behind George, gasped and rushed over to her bed, questions pouring from his mouth.

"What happened? Who did it? How long have you been here? What happened?" he repeated his first question, hoping that that would be the one that she answered. Which it was.

"I… Harry I don't really know how to say this. But, Harry, Ron was..." she took a breathe, and George didn't think that she was going to continue, but after staring at Harry, she heaved a breathe and did so.

"Abusive. Ron was abusive. To me."

Harry looked confused, blank. George was relieved, glad that Harry hadn't know what was going on.

"What?"

"He was. I-I didn't know how to tell you, but I should have. Long ago."

George glanced back at Ginny, who was still at the door, and was startled to find her in tears. He walked back to her. In a hushed voice, he asked her what was wrong.

She hugged him, and answered, "It's just so awful. I, I never thought that Ron would do something like that to Hermione, he always seemed so in love with her… Last week, he told me that he was planning on proposing to her. I had no idea."

George let go of her when she pulled back, thinking. _Ron was going to propose. To Hermione. Did he really expect her to say yes?_

_But then again, if he had said no, he probably would have intimidated her into saying yes. _

George closed his eyes, before opening them to look back over to Hermione, she was talking to Harry, and was starting to cry, thick tears gliding down her face. Harry seemed to be working himself into a rage. He turned away from Hermione abruptly, and walk to George. Ginny sighed sadly, and walked to Hermione.

"Where is he?" Harry's voice was cold and his eyes threw fire.

"I took him to the Ministry and told them what had happened, he's in a holding cell, awaiting trial." Even though George's voice was perfectly even, he was furious on the inside. It was his _brother _after all.

Without another word, Harry walked out, and George was torn. He wanted to go with Harry, and probably go yell at Ron, but at the same time, Hermione…

George shook his head. Hermione was crying with Ginny, they didn't need him here. He quietly followed Harry who was already out in the hall. George jogged to catch up with him, and the two of them made there way to the fireplace in the waiting room, no words needed between them.

The room was significantly busier than earlier. The press was there. It seemed that someone had leaked to them that Harry was there. As soon as they were in sight, camera lights flashed, and questions were all but screamed at them. The healers hadn't let them into the actual hospital, so they were all standing in the entrance rooms, by the muggle entrance, doors opened into the waiting room, reporters pouring out.

Harry stoically avoided everyone, avoiding people and questions, he calmly made his way to the fireplace. George falling him.

When they made it to the ministry, Harry immediately headed off down one of the various corridors. George, never having explored the ministry, followed Harry, no idea where they were going.

After walking, Harry lead them to a secluded office, surprisingly there was no fireplace in sight, must be someone important.

Harry knocked on the door, and they waited. George was shocked when Amelia Bones came out, and when she saw them, heaved a heavy sigh. She must have figured they would be coming sooner or later. What with Ron and all.

"Yes, yes come in Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley." she seemed inpatient and exasperated. She ushered them in, showing them both to seats in front of the desk that was, presumably, her's.

"I know why you're here. And if you really want to see him, you can, but you need to fill out paperwork. Never forget the paperwork."

Harry nodded, he seemed to angry and preoccupied to answer with words. Who could blame him?

Minutes later, paperwork grudgingly filled out, Harry and George were angrily storming down the hallways that lead to the Ministry's holding cells. The cells were used for people who were awaiting trial, it was too much trouble to ship someone off to Azkaban, especially if they might be innocent (part of the new regime enacted by Minister Shacklebolt). The cells were also used to hold people who were involved, but hadn't been charged with crimes yet, although they could only be held temporarily. Ronald Weasley was of the second category, not having been charged yet, though undoubtedly he would be soon. In fact, visitors aren't normally allowed. But Harry, being Harry, was allowed, and he had taken George along with him. He was the Boy Who Lived, what could they do to stop him. Half the people in the Ministry, if not more, were more loyal to him than to the Ministry or Minister.

Well, despite this, there was a firm seperation in place. Harry and George were not allowed in the cell, and Ron was not allowed out. Privately, George wondered whose protection that was for.

The cell, though hardly high class, was clean. Ron was laying, back down, on the small bed in the corner. He was muttering to himself. He looked up when their footsteps became audible with distance.

He had been there for only a day, but it looked as if he had been there for several long, lonely months. His hair was a mess, eyes bloodshot and his cheeks and chin were covered in short stubble.

He, when George came into view, shot him a furious look, but masked it when he saw that Harry was behind him.

Ron rose to his feet, and ran to the bars of the cell, clutching them desperately, a similar expression on his face, "Harry! Thank god you're here. They locked me up here because they think I'm hurting Hermione, can you believe that?" his voice was one of relief and his voice was colored with exasperation and shock. All of which was, of course, fake. Fred felt his fury rise.


	4. Confrontations

**So sorry for the delay on this chapter, and I'm really happy to hear that people want me to keep going with this! I also do want to add that I am not just full of free time to write this in, and so updates will likely be slower and far between... sorry. Also, reviews make me WANT to update... just so you know :)**

**I DO NOT own Harry Potter or any related characters/themes. Etc. **

Harry just looked at Ron, his furious expression not changing.

"Harry, come on, you can't believe this crap. I would never do that to Hermione! To anyone! I'm not a death eater." Ron was looking at Harry, ignoring his brother, a manipulative glint in his eyes. Apparently Harry saw it to, because he took quick steps towards the bars of the cell, making Ron take a step back, into the safety of the cell where Harry couldn't touch him.

"Harry, don't tell me that you believe this?! You can ask Hermione, she'll tell you exactly what I am. I. Didn't. Touch. Her. I would never do that!"

Harry stayed silent, before gritting his teeth. "Yes you did, don't deny it. If you ever come near her again, or me for that matter and I will kill you."

Ron stared at him, false incredulity on his face, "Harry, just listen to me, I've known you, and Hermione, since I was 11. Do you really think that _I am capable_ _of this?"_

Harry, who had only got a few feet away, with his back turned to Ron, ready to walk away, stopped in his tracks, his previously cold expression morphing into fury. How dare he bring in their friendship. Harry was beyond mad. Not only at Ron, but at himself.

Harry stalked back to Ron, "Ronald Weasley, you are dead to me, and come near me again, and you will actually be so."

Ron looked shocked, and seemed to get that this was happening, there was no way around it. In Ron's mind, it was no fault of his, as he only done it because she was cheating on him.

While Ron was staring dumbstruck at Harry, George had approached the cell from the side, studying his youngest brother.

"The same goes for me. The state she was in when she showed up in my flat, Ron! How could you have done that to Hermione, when at the same time, you claimed to love her? I don't get it, are you not right in the head?" George's tone was cruelly sarcastic by the end, though heartfelt in the beginning.

Ron glared at him, and his mocking tone, all of his pretenses forgotten, and glowered at George

"Well, if she hadn't cheated on me-"

"Cheated on you? When did she cheat on you?" George was incredulous, that wasn't like the Hermione he knew, but it was like the Ron knew to make things up. He had probably deluded himself into believing them. Sometimes George wondered if the war had had a more lasting effect on Ron, something no one had caught yet, that he didn't show. This was so unlike how George remembered his younger brother in their youth.

"What do you mean, when did she cheat on me? It was with you after all, don't kid me, I know all about you two!"

Ron was furious, his voice had risen to a shout, and behind George, Harry had stopped on his walk out, and turned back to face them, intent on hearing this latest development.

George just stared at Ron, confused then angry. "No, I was never with her! You're so deluded, so fueled by your own insecurities that you actually believe that don't you? I was never with her, much less when you were dating her!" George was torn between laughing at the fictionness of what was going on, and crying that it was his life.

He had never been dating Hermione, Ron was so insecure about their relationship, that he deluded himself into seeing things that weren't there.

George shook his head, and walked away, catching up to Harry who had continued his walk. Harry didn't slow down, but looked at George wordlessly as he caught up with him.

The two walked out of the ministry, silently lost in each their own thoughts.

When they were in the entrance room (where there were no disapperation wards), both pulled out their wands and separately disapperated.

George, apperated to the hospital, vaguely wondering if that was where Harry was going.

There were still reporters, but he mostly ignored them, shooting them menacing looks, that made them leave him alone.

Quietly he walked back to Hermione's room, distantly hearing the crack of apperation, as Harry arrived in the waiting room, and the surge of reporters.

George kept walking, successfully starting to quell the anger inside him. Hermione didn't need an angry friends, she needed support.

George quietly entered the room that Hermione had been earlier, he hoped she was still there, he had only been gone about an hour or so, she should still be there.

The room was as plain as he remembered it, Hermione was still in the bed, sitting up, and looking much more cheerful than she had been earlier, although still sporting bloodshot eyes. She was talking animatedly to a healer, but when George entered, she saw him and walked away, leaving George to talk to Hermione. Hermione beamed when she saw him, though there was sadness in her eyes as well. No wonder why.

George sat down once again in the uncomfortable chair, and smiled at her. There was a small pause between them, before Hermione broke it.

"The Healers here are brilliant, I was just talking to Healer Smith about one of the more common types of spell mishaps. It's fascinating, the kind of things you can do with magic, even accidentally." Her face gained a pensive look in them, the smile slipping quickly from her face. Her eyes stared off into space, and George couldn't help but worry that she was thinking about Ron.

George hesitated, but before he could touch her arm, as he was planning on doing, her eyes snapped to his and she said, "Is Harry coming, I know that he was here for a while, but well… I guess he left pretty soon after getting here."

George looked at her in concern for a moment before coughing slightly and answering hurriedly, he didn't really want to talk about Harry right now, "Um, yeah, when you and Ginny were… talking, me and him went to the Ministry..." he trailed off.

Hermione looked confused for a moment, before her expression cleared and her gaze sharpened with sadness. She looked at him, and he looked at her.

Smiling slightly at him, she broke eye contact by looking down at her covers and bed around her.

Shaking her head, she stood up hastily, almost falling over. Her legs were probably asleep, she had been sitting/laying for quite a while, at least a few hours. George, with quicker reflexes than he realised, caught her before she fell, even though she likely would have only fallen onto the bed again.

She smiled at him and planted her feet more firmly under her, shaking then out and holding onto his arms for much needed support as she did so. He smiled at her, glad that she was starting to open herself up to his help.

He desperately wanted to give help to the witch that he had known for years, watched rise into her power and fight in the most unforgiving war of probably the century, only to be hurt by his brother. He just hope that she wasn't hurt beyond repair.

Having regained her footing, she let go of his arms, and he stepped back, returning the shaky, but none less heartfelt smile she gave him. He wondered where she would go as he followed her out of the hospital room, she had a bathroom in the room.

She walked surprisingly swiftly down the hall, George speed walked to catch up with her. He had no idea where she was going, he was unfamiliar with this specific part of St. Mungo's.

Vocalizing his thoughts, for he had no hope of an answer without asking her, he tentatively asked, "Um, 'Mione, where are we going?"

She looked back at him, despite him being only a foot or so behind him, and slowed down. "Who the hell knows, I just wanted to get out of there. It was getting stuffy."

George nodded, "That it was." It was silent before an awful thought occurred to George, and he vocalized it without a second thought, "You're OK with me coming, though, right?"

Hermione stopped walking and looked at him with a surprised expression on her face, "Of course. I'm much happier if I have you along."

George grinned, and she grinned back as she continued, "This way, I have someone to blame if we get lost."

George's grin broadened as he jokingly replied, "'If we get lost'? Please, I feel confident in saying that we will get lost, assuming that we haven't already." He looked around mockingly, but wasn't surprised when he didn't recognise the hall they were in.

Hermione looked around as well, the smile dropping off her face when she didn't recognise it either, before it returned and she laughed.

Already probably hopelessly lost, the wordlessly decided to just keep wondering. George didn't know how long the wondered for, but when Hermione started to look tired again, and her feet moved slower and slower, despite her trying to hide this, and his own eyelids felt heavy, he asked one of the many nearby Healers where room 365 was.

The Healer rolled his eyes, but began to lead them back to Hermione's room. George hoped that he hadn't inconvenience the Healer to much, he looked quite busy, but then again, all Healers looked so. They couldn't _all _be as busy as they looked, right?

They entered the room, and both stopped dead in their tracks right after entering, each going rigid and their eyes going wide.

Hermione's breathing sped up as the fear seized her. It was familiar, and had only grown worse with a few days, if that much, time. His face was ragged, eyes piercing as he stared mercilessly and angrily at her. Hermione felt a tingle of animal like fear go up her spine.

Standing in the middle of the otherwise deserted room, stood Ronald Weasley, staring hungrily at Hermione.

**Again, feel free to REVIEW, follow and favorite! Drop me a review if you liked and want more (reviews make great motivation). and have an awesome day (Happy Easter if you celebrate that, too). **


	5. The Escape!

**Okay, so It's been a while. I hope people are still reading this, and want me to continue. It's summer time and school's out, so I will be updating and hopefully finishing this in the next few weeks/month. Hopefully. :) Please, please, review. **

George looked, shocked to the core, at his youngest brother.

Last he had seen him, he had been behind the bars of a ministry holding cell, and shouting at him. How he had gotten out, the Ministry certainly hadn't _let _him out, was beyond George, but it didn't really matter right now.

What did matter was that he _was _out and staring at Hermione with an almost animalistic rage and… hunger? Hunger was as close as George could get to describing what his brother's eyes held as they looked at his ex girlfriend.

George tensed, feeling the familiar rage at Ron flood back. His anger had been temporarily washed away by his time spent with Hermione. She had a calming effect on him, and right now she was afraid.

Deathly afraid. He could feel it in her complete lack of movement, and the way her breathing seized up before speeding up, much faster than it had been before seeing Ron.

Right now, George figured, Ron was unpredictable. He had been in a cell for hours after taking a beating from his brother, getting really bad reactions from his supposed great love at his presence, and death treats and disownments from his ex best friend.

Ron was dangerous. The fear he had instilled in Hermione, a formidable witch and war heroine in her own right, proved that. The look on his face and his clenched fists supported that.

Ron slowly, a furious look on his face, approached them both. George looked around, the door had been closed behind him and Hermione, probably by the impatient Healer who had helped them back, and there was no one else in the room. Unfortunately he and Hermione were already a few, maybe five, yards into the room.

Ron took a step forward, George at a loss of what to do, gently put his hand on Hermione's arm, seeing as she was frozen with probably both shock and fear, and pulled her back with him. When George touched her, Ron's eyes lit up and he approached George quicker than expected.

It became fairly obvious to George that Ron was going to attack him, and he stepped away from Hermione, trying to prevent her getting hurt. George searched his pockets quickly, wondering why he hadn't thought of it earlier. He pulled out his wand, silently cursing himself for not immediately getting it after he saw Ron.

In the few seconds while George was getting his wand, Ron must have caught on to what George was doing, probably familiar with where his brother kept his wand, and so he turned his attention to Hermione, who still seemed to be frozen, staring at him.

Ron, quickly, ran to where Hermione stood and grabbed her arms. He pinned them down at her sides, standing only a few inches away from her, and shoved her, roughly in George's opinion, into the wall behind her, next to the door.

She shrunk into the wall, trying to distance herself from him, and stared at him with fear in her gaze. Ron was breathing heavily as he pushed himself up against her.

George sprung into action, worrying, based on his brother's closeness to Hermione, that he would kiss her or something, but luckily he didn't. George, moving a few feet towards them, not wanting an unconscious Ron to fall onto Hermione against the wall.

"Stupefy!" George's hex was maybe a little bit powerful for a stunner, but it did its job and hit Ron square in the back. From his close proximity, George grabbed his brother's shoulder, now that he was unconscious, and pulled him roughly towards him. As Ron tumbled towards George, George made no effort to catch him, and he crumbled to the ground at George's and Hermione's feet.

Hermione was still against the wall, looking horrified but also angry. She looked down at the mostly unharmed body of her attacker, and seeming to snap out of her weird daze, stepped over him, taking care to tread on his fingers.

She looked angrily at him, before raising her foot above his head, whose position she had adjusted with her foot, and stomped on his nose, hard. George was sure that she had broken it, based on the crack he heard at least. George levelled his wand at the figure of his brother on the floor again, worried that it would wake him up.

But Ron didn't get up, or even stir, and George suspected that he had overpowered the stunner a bit too much. Oh well.

Hermione turned to him, tears sliding down her face, all anger gone from her gaze. George felt a strong surge of respect for the woman in front of him. She was stronger that he was, that was for sure.

Unsure of what to do at her crying, silent and calm though it was, he opened his arms slightly. Without hesitation, she stepped forward the few feet into his embrace, and rested her head against his chest.

Hesitantly George reached his arms around her and hugged her against him, gently as he could, not wanting to remind her, at all, or Ron pushing her against the wall. He didn't at all mind the tears that he could feel bleeding through his shirt, but he was relieved that she wasn't full on sobbing.

Neither one of them moved as feet ran towards the door, and it was opened. Harry ran into the room first, his face white as a sheet, and a pair of Aurors on his tail.

The aurors moved towards the limp figure that was Ron, and Harry moved over to Hermione and George. Vaguely, George wondered how it was that Ron had gotten out and why it had taken so long for them to get here.

"Tell me again what happened." Susan Bones said as she looked at George from across her desk.

George sighed, and told his short story again, "Me and Hermione had been out walking around the hospital, and had gotten a Healer to show us back to her room when we got lost."

Susan Bones nodded along, already familiar with the story, but still at a loss.

"We, me and Hermione that is, entered her room, and the Healer closed the door behind us."

George swallowed, recalling the image of his brother when he first saw him in St. Mungo's, "Ron was standing in the middle of the room, he looked angry. Furious even, he was looking at Hermione..." George trailed off.

"He was looking at Hermione. How did Hermione react to seeing him?" Bones jutted in, knowing full well the answer.

George levelled a stare at her, not sure why they were going over the same story again. "She froze. She went all rigid and her breathing picked up.

"Not knowing what else to do, I pulled her back with me towards the door. I grabbed my wand, and-"

"Mr. Weasley, George, why didn't you get your wand sooner? As soon as you saw him, perhaps?"

George grimaced, "I didn't think to. I didn't exactly expect to see Ron and I guess I was too surprised at him to think properly."

Bones looked at him shrewdly, before nodding for him to continue.

"Right, so I grabbed my wand. It took me a few seconds to get it, and in that time, Ron had run forward and grabbed onto Hermione."

George closed his eyes for a moment, breaking eye contact with Bones, who was looking at him closely, if without accusation.

"And when he grabbed her, he, like, slammed her into the wall behind her. Shoving himself up on her. I, with my wand, reacted, I guess. He was just a few feet away, and I stunned him.

"I didn't want him to fall onto Hermione, so I grabbed him right after shooting the stunner and threw him off her and to the ground behind me.

"Hermione, at this point, was angry with him. I could see it in her eyes when she looked at him on the ground. She stomped on his nose, breaking it."

There was a short silence. Bones broke it, "And that didn't wake him up? He didn't even stir? Not at all?"

George shrugged, "I guess I must have overpowered the stunner or something." He said defensively.

Again, there was a silence between them and George, knowing that Bones would have questions, again, asked a few of his own. No one had told him anything, and he was angry and tired. "So, how did Ron, like, you know, get out?"

There was a fair amount of accusation in his tone, and his glare was heavy as he looked at Bones.

She sighed, "It seems that one of the patrolling guards didn't agree with locking him up. Didn't believe the charges. Ron is a war hero in the eyes of many, you know. The guard was persuaded to let Ron out."

Bones looked at him, and Fred looked back, they were both thinking the same thing: This could easily happen again.

Ron was a war hero, as big as Harry and Hermione. The public wouldn't just turn against him, not without hearing from Hermione, which George knew Hermione didn't want to do.

But she might have to.

**Again, please review, follow and fav. Etc. **


	6. Preparing for the Trial

Hermione paced, she was still in the hospital room, but was on her way to being discharged. She had filled out the paperwork, but the Healers had insisted on keeping her until it was decided where she would stay.

She had shared a flat with Ron, and while he was being charged and still in Ministry custody, the Mind Healers (similar to muggle therapists) recommended that she not go back there as it could be traumatic, given what little they knew of what happened between Hermione and Ron, only that which she had reluctantly told them.

George had, or course, immediately offered for her to stay at her flat, which she was hesitant to do.

It was a two bedroom flat, and while George stayed in one, that left the other open. Hermione knew for a fact that George hadn't stepped a foot into the second bedroom since before the Battle of Hogwarts.

It had been Fred's room. Hermione simply didn't want to put George through that. There wasn't, Hermione knew, any denying that George would, at some point, have to go into the room, it was funny to think otherwise. But she didn't want to push him into it if he wasn't ready.

And she didn't think he was ready.

Much to Hermione's, and secretly George's, relief, Harry and Ginny volunteered their small house for her to stay at. They had only just bought the house, it was three bedroom and one and a half bath. Buying had long been in their plans, and Hermione knew how happy they were together.

She was assured by both Harry and Ginny that the wards were super secure, and that Ron was specifically keyed out of them, so he would have no hope of getting into the house if he ever did get out again. George, when hearing this, agreed that it would be best if she stayed there.

But still, for whatever reason, the Healers still insisted on keeping her there (not formally, she could leave if she really wanted to, but was content to stay).

As if hearing her impatient and nervous thoughts, Harry burst through the hospital doors. Behind him followed Ginny, a wide smile on her face, and George, a small smile on his face and sad eyes. He was thinking about Fred again.

"Hermione! How are you?" asked Harry, a happy, in worried, smile on his face.

Hermione stood up, grinning broadly at him, "Good, good, Harry. Thanks for asking. Are we set to go, then?"

"Yep, as long as you are ready."

Hermione nodded and happily walked with him out of the hospital.

Harry heavily sat down in the living room at his house. The room was still mostly full of boxes. He and Ginny hadn't gotten very far in their task of unpacking. Despite this, unboxing wasn't even close to his most troubling problem.

Ron Billius Weasley.

His best friend practically since they met on the train when they were both eleven. They had been through thick and thin. Always, despite envy and anger, their friendship had prevailed.

Despite fourth year, Harry again being the center of attention and events. On top of quidditch, which since their first year Harry had been great at, Harry was a Champion of Hogwarts. Everything Ron would have loved to be. Their friendship had, directly after the second task, been reconciled. All arguments put to an end.

Despite a jealous argument, made worse by stress fueled tensions and Lord Voldemort's horcrux around Ron's neck. Ron had left, having said all he needed to say. Harry couldn't think of a time when he had been angrier, his anger then perhaps triumphed over the anger he held for his parent's killer combined with their betrayal.

But Ron came back. Harry forgave him. Ron forgave him. It was great.

The war ended. Ron and Hermione seemingly realised they were in love, and in the aftermath of the bloodiest war the Wizarding World had seen in centuries, built a relationship.

Harry couldn't have been happier for them, especially once Harry got back together with Ginny.

Life moved on, for the most part, from the bloodshed of fighting. Lord Voldemort, was, after all dead. But, even now, after fulfilling his destiny, his divined fate, Harry couldn't escape it.

It seemed that his life would just never be happy. Never be simple. Never be free of conflict. Not even when he was among one of his best friends.

He sat on the sofa, Ginny was with Hermione helping her settle in. Harry wasn't dumb, and he knew that Ginny was going to try and have a serious conversation about what happens next, and so he stayed away.

He stayed on the sofa, and just looked at the boxes.

Molly Weasley didn't believe it. She just didn't.

Arthur Weasley, not that you could use it against him, was sadly quick to believe the story against his son. He quite often noticed a simmering anger in his son, and, once told the truth, put the pieces together. This wasn't, however, to say that he wasn't shocked and horrified.

Both of them had been up to the Ministry to talk to him. Molly cried and yelled about the unfairness of it all. Arthur cried and yelled in fury at his youngest son. This made it just a wee difficult for Molly and Arthur to see eye to eye, and as such they weren't really talking about the whole thing.

Arthur was optimistic that she would see his side in a couple of weeks. Molly felt the same way about her side and Arthur.

"Well, on the bright side," said Madam Bones, pausing to take a well-deserved sip of her coffee, "we know how he got out."

"And how was that?" asked George.

"Er… a guard... " Susan Bones trailed off, looking into her coffee.

"What?"

She sighed, "Ah… Let him… er… out."

"Are you kidding me?!" George stood up, throwing his hands up. "A guard just opened the door, and he, what? Walked out? Through the front door?"

Bones sighed again, not answering.

George sat back down. He looked astonished. "Really?"

"Yes." Bones snapped at him, "How did you expect him to get out? _Really_? Just walk through the bars? Dig out with a spoon? Fly out on a bird? Well?"

It became apparent to George that Madam Bones was rather short on patience at the moment. George wisely didn't say anything.

A beat later, Madam Bones sighed. Her shoulders sagged. She said,"I'm sorry I'm being short with you, Weasley."

George nodded in silence, still not making eye contact.

It wasn't that he blamed her. Not really. Ron was a celebrity. He was a hero. It was sort of something that they, that he, should have expected that it would be in possible someone would feel obligated to help him. But then again, how he got out of the Ministry? That was totally and completely on the Ministry. George was more than happy to assign blame to them for that one.

His thoughts turned to Hermione as silence seemed to fall over him and Bones.

She was with Harry and Ginny, who had been very insistant that she would be safest with them. George knew that she was also very impatient to be out of there, but was also going to humor her friends.

She was planning on packing up her things from the flat she and Ron had shared, hopefully within the next few days. Then she would pick a different flat, probably a ways away and move in there. That was, of course, assuming that she could get away from Harry and Ginny in any reasonable amount of time.

George wasn't sure that she could.

He was planning on visiting her later that day, just to talk things over with her… and because he didn't want to stay away.

"How are you doing, then?" George said when Hermione opened the door.

George was quickly gestured into this house by Ginny, who was standing behind Hermione.

There was a beat of silence, "I'm doing good."

George smiled at her, and she smiled back. Ginny rolled her eyes and went into the kitchen to let them talk.

Less than half an hour later George was leaving, and he was feeling more than optimistic about the trial to come. Hermione had told him how she'd hired a lawyer, and the witness list was really coming together. All in all, George figured, it would be a shut and close case.

At least, he hoped so.

**Thanks for reading. Hopefully, I'll have another chapter up within a week or two. I've been really blocked on this story, and I'm not sure what I'm doing with it, so if you have any suggestions feel free to drop a comment or PM me about it!**

**And also, of course, REVIEW!**


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